Daryn Guarino's Blog: Just what we need, another blog - Posts Tagged "depression"

This is where it started:

I hid my pain for as long as I could,
Until I couldn't do it any more,
Until it hurt too much to go on,
So I gathered my courage,
Because taking this next step was going to be painful.

I wanted things to get better,
I didn't want them to end,
I wanted to work on things, to fix them,
But before I could do or explain anything,
You got sick.

Could I explain it now?
That I was hurting?
That I needed something to change?
Could I say it with you in a hospital bed?
Surrounded by beeping machines and flashing lights?

No, of course not,
You needed me, so I would be there for you,
And I was there for you,
Even though I ached inside.

So I shut my mouth,
And walled off the pain,
And sat in a hard plastic chair,
Hoping the person who was hurting me so badly,
That I wanted to die,
Would live.

Stolen from the internet with regrets that I don't know the author:
“Though we think of grief as something that happens after a death, it often begins long before death arrives. It can start as soon as we become aware that death is a likelihood. Once death is on the horizon, even just as a possibility, it is natural that we begin to grieve. Though this is different than the grief that follows a death, anticipatory grief can carry many of the symptoms of regular grief – sadness, anger, isolation, forgetfulness, and depression. These complicated emotions are often coupled with the exhaustion that comes with being a caregiver (or the stress of being left alone when someone goes to war or is battling addiction). We are aware of the looming death and accepting it will come, which can bring an overwhelming anxiety and dread. More than that, in advance of a death we grieve the loss of person’s abilities and independence, their loss of cognition, a loss of hope, loss of future dreams, loss of stability and security, loss of their identity and our own, and countless other losses. This grief is not just about accepting the future death, but of the many losses already occurring as an illness progresses.
When we know a death is imminent our bodies are often in a state of hyper-alertness – we panic whenever the phone rings, an ambulance must be called, or when our loved one deteriorates further. This can become mentally and physically exhausting. The same is true of watching a loved one suffer, which is almost always part of a prolonged illness. Caring for them as they suffer takes an emotional toll on us.”

My feelings would have to wait,
I had to be there for you,
If this was your end,
I wanted you to leave surrounded by love.
Even if the love was strained through my pain.

Care-giving is hard,
But it was the right thing to do,
And you would do the same for me,
At least, I thought you would.

Your failing health often sent us to the hospital,
Sometimes daily.
Would this be it?
Is your time now?
I spent so much time at the hospital,
Sometimes riding the ambulance,
Sometimes driving myself,
You were dancing with death,
But I just stared at monitors,
Waiting to see if death was taking you home after,
Or if I was.

And every time you almost died, I felt like I did.

Your life was going to be fine, why worry?
If you died, you would be fine. You wouldn't know and you wouldn't suffer.
If you lived, you would be fine. You wouldn't know and you wouldn't suffer.
No worries for you,
But I was sitting out here,
And my needs were so raw and I was suffering,
But quietly I sat.

I became very intimate with your pending death,
I had to be rational while my world burned.
While you rested, I calmly researched your condition,
I calmly wrote your will,
Crying the whole time,
These duties were...I needed time for me, just to breathe,
But duty is duty and is relentless, I pushed my needs to the back of the closet,
I calmly explained your possible death to the kids,
They didn't really understand, so I had to do it often.
Days of pending death at the hospital,
Nights of painful living hell that had to be hidden at home,
It never got easier.

I calmly agreed as you asked me to pull the plug,
Should it come to that,
No vegetative state for you.

And you rested easy, knowing I would do whatever I said I would do,
So I calmly prepared for a physical fight in the ICU with the police and staff,
I wouldn't waste time in a courtroom asking them to honor your wishes, but you knew that,
I would make your wishes a reality and then fight them off until it was done,
My warrior side relished a good fight, the wolf howled to be released,
I was sick of medical combat where I waited helplessly.
I would fight the rest of the world for you,
After I unplugged you,
So you could die in peace,
Should it come to that,
Come what may to me.

I had to be the rock,
I had to have it under control,
I had to suppress my emotions,
So I could handle everyone else's,
And tell them things would be fine,
Everyone was depending on me,
And I was unraveling,
And couldn't let anyone see.

I needed to break down,
I needed someone to hold me,
Some kind of warm contact with someone who would not judge me,
For my tears or my anger.
Someone to tell me things would be all right,
Someone who would understand.

I couldn't bring this to you, you were ignoring my pain before this all started.
I couldn't bring this to you, you had enough problems of your own just surviving.
I couldn't bring this to you because you were my everything and you were leaving,
I howled from my bedroom cell,
Speaking to no one but the dark.

I didn't eat well,
I didn't sleep well,
I tried to not complain,
I tried to pretend I was fine,
I faked smiles,
But I wallowed in the excruciating details of your death,
Anticipatory grief,
Knowing it had a name helped a little,
But I was in deep,
And I was alone.

The day of judgment came,
It would be today or it would not,
You would be fine either way regardless of outcome,
Whether you survived or whether you died, you would feel fine,
But, me, I was waiting to see if my world was about to shatter.

Luckily, your trauma didn't kill you,
Medical skill prevailed,
You would live.
My duty was complete, now I could rest...
Can't I?

You felt better than ever,
I was still recovering from trauma.
You wanted to go, go, go,
But I needed to fall down, down, down.

You didn't seem to understand that I had been through a greater trauma than you,
That I was exhausted, totally spent.
You didn't understand that I had been through a trauma at all,
You were the sick one, why would I have problems?
It felt like you didn't seem to care.

You didn't let me have my time,
I tried to keep up with you and your new speedy happy demeanor,
But I needed to recover and you wouldn't listen.
Selfish is the only word I have for it,
It reminded me that I was unhappy before all of this started anyway.

You were healing, but my wounds had yet to be addressed,
I needed time to heal, to be alone, to rest, to recover,
But you would not give it to me.

“What is wrong with you?” you yelled.
“Get over it!” you shouted.
“You are responsible for the thoughts that stay in your head!”

I'm in this condition because of loyalty,
Loyalty to you,
And all you offer is, “Get over it”?

I would love to be responsible for the thoughts that stay in my head,
I don't want some of them in there,
But that isn't how the mind, my mind, any mind, works.
You cannot forget pain simply because you want to,
You cannot will your mind back to normal, to health.

I can get everyone through a crisis,
If I'm with you, you will be safe,
No matter what happens: storm, snow, marauders, zombie apocalypse, whatever...I got you,
But when the crisis passes, I'll need room and time for me to heal,
Because suppressing all that emotion has a real cost and I feel every penny of it.

I didn't mean to break down, I don't want my brain to work this way either,
But I needed time, only time, alone time, time for quiet reflection, just give me some TIME!
All you had to do...was nothing...
Nothing at all.

But we were back to things being all about you again,
And, thinking only of yourself, you decided that,
If you were feeling better, I shouldn't, couldn't, be damaged at all.

It had taken months to get me to this unstable state,
It wasn't going to suddenly go away because you had a good day in surgery,
But you didn't care, I don't know why I thought you would,
I guess I figured that I did my best to help you recover,
That you would do the same for me,
But that isn't how it went.

I hurt before your surgery and wanted changes in our relationship,
I hurt after your surgery and wanted changes in our relationship,
You were oblivious or didn't care.
I don't think you are stupid, so I guess you simply didn't care.
I didn't have the mental strength left to fight you,
I didn't have the will to continue,
It was too much for me.

So I said we were done
I killed our future,
Because I had to, not because I wanted to.
I wanted things to be better for all of us, not just you,
I don't know what you wanted other than servants, slaves, and yes-men.
But I was done being the whipping boy.

It wasn't the best plan,
It wasn't a plan at all,
It wasn't well-considered,
But it had to be done.
Imagine how bad I must hurt to do such a stupid thing.

I can't just escape, I have other people to consider,
I have to find a job, but I haven't worked in twenty years,
It can't be just any job, I have two kids to support.
I have a degree in Computer Science, but there was no email or internet when I got it,
So my skills are a bit out of date.

I split from the woman that I love,
At the age of 50,
But I cannot leave the building.

Even assuming I find that great job where my old skills can apply,
It could take months to establish myself,
To save money for a down payment and an apartment,
And furniture, I have none, I would need beds at the very least.

And she can demand that I and the boys leave at any moment,
Not a stress-free environment,
Not yet.
So all that bubbling emotion,
Is still bubbling.
I know I'm a time-bomb now.

I have PTSD, a formal diagnosis for whatever that's worth,
I am a borderline sociopath,
I have many antisocial traits, but haven't crossed the line.
I know what I am,
I know a simple confrontation could push me to an excessive response,
On a good day...
And these were not good days.
So I hide from the light,
It keeps everyone else safe.

I'm in a horrible emotional and physical limbo,
Haven't slept in a bed in weeks,
I haven't slept more than five hours in a row in months.
Depression, uncertainty, pain, anger, and doubt fill my head.
Depression is like having a wet mattress strapped to your back,
You're heavy and slow and everything is harder to do.
But I force myself,
To apply for jobs that I really really need with my dusty skills,
To interview with a fake smile on my face speaking to yet another,
Taleo-based HR moron not qualified to pick out a houseplant,
To desperately complete night classes that will take months to complete.

I'm trapped in a prison of my own making,
I cannot help myself.
I have asked for help, but have been rebuffed.
When someone asks you for help, you should, at least, listen.
You might be the only person they said something to.

I sit here and talk to myself,
I argue with people who aren't there,
My mind goes off on adventures from time to time,
Sometimes I know about it, sometimes I don't,
I attack my heavy bag to blow off stress,
But sometimes I “wake up” already hitting my heavy bag,
Sometimes I “wake up” and I am shouting,
Sometimes I “wake up” at a store with people staring at me,
When it happens driving, I “wake up” in other states.
I lost 13 days once, no one knows where I went and neither do I.
It's getting worse and I can't do anything about it,
Until I find that great job and move out.
I have to pretend I am fine...
I am not.

And I'm starting to lose sight of the whole point of any of this.
Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick...